


Catch a thought, let it go again

by lloydsglasses



Series: And there's a storm in every bottle of wine [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dwarrow society, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Issues, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 20:53:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3869428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lloydsglasses/pseuds/lloydsglasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He remembers things in bits and pieces now and each new memory is another revelation, another reassurance that he isn’t broken after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch a thought, let it go again

**Author's Note:**

> A short coda to [It's a long way down (down's not where I want to be).](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3748372)
> 
>  **TW for:** gender dysphoria and societal transphobia.

The thing is Thorin can remember a time when he knew with absolute certainty that he wasn’t a boy. It wasn’t a very extensive amount of time, and he certainly didn’t tell anyone else back then (and isn’t that a relief), but he remembers it all the same.

He’d been young, and he hadn’t really known any words for it, he just knew that something felt wrong every time he was called _the prince_. He knew that he didn’t like the way he’d started struggling to sing the high parts in his favourite songs, when he’d never had a problem reaching those notes before. He knew that the thing he hated most in the world was when his weapons training ended and he would have to head to the communal baths with the rest of the class. And he knew – he knew with utter conviction – that he didn’t want to be male when he grew up.

He wonders how he could have forgotten that he knew such a thing, considering how fundamental it feels to him now. But then, maybe forget is the wrong word for what really happened. Because he also remembers being told very firmly that boys are boys and girls are girls and Thorin couldn’t be a girl because he was a boy. Or maybe he was never specifically told, maybe that’s just the only conclusion he was able to draw based on the way everyone else acted. Either way, it’s not difficult to see why he tried to repress that part of himself. Especially after he learnt how dwarven society viewed boys that tried to be girls, and vice versa.

He remembers things in bits and pieces now, and each new memory is another revelation, another reassurance that he isn’t broken after all; they prove to Thorin that he has always felt female on the inside, that accepting himself doesn’t mean he has to reject his Maker’s will, because Mahal crafted this part of him too. He finds peace in the things that he remembers, even if the memories themselves are often tinged with sadness.

He remembers, for example, asking Dwalin to braid ribbons into his hair shortly after his sister was born. Dwalin had agreed to do it, and Thorin can even recall his friend telling him it looked nice. He had to take them out soon enough though, because Balin had walked in on them. Fundin had taken him home shortly afterwards and Thorin was left with Frerin while his mother and Fundin moved into the next room for a chat.

“What did you do?” Frerin had asked, because both of them knew what it meant when mother asked them to stay in the playroom until she called for them.

When Thorin said he got Dwalin to put some ribbons in his hair, Frerin had scrunched up his nose in a clear sign of childish disgust. “Like a girl? Why would you want to do that?”

And while he can recall his brother’s words with absolute clarity it’s hard to say if he actually responded to them. But he does remember the sensation of his throat being too tight; he remembers Frerin's face blurring in front of him as tears started to roll down his cheeks, and he remembers not really knowing why he was crying but being unable to stop. He also remembers listening at his bedroom door that night while his parents argued quietly in the hallway, catching his mother’s voice murmuring _he’s too young to know better_ and _it’s not something we should worry about._

He weaves ribbons into his own hair now, when he is certain he won’t be disturbed. He doesn’t get the chance very often, what with all the restoration work that needs overseeing, and the few ribbons he has managed to secretly acquire are not his preferred colours. But it makes him feel… It makes him feel settled. More like himself. 

Sometimes he thinks about showing Bilbo, but he isn’t sure if he’s quite ready for that yet. He will be though, with time. He thinks that one day he might even be ready to try being a ‘she’ again in his own head. But for now he makes do with his ribbons and with the comfort his new remembrances bring.

It has taken him a long time to recall his true self. He was never a boy, and yet somehow he managed to forget that over the years. But he knows it now. He knows it with all the fierce conviction he had once possessed as a child, and he won’t be forgetting again any time soon.

**Author's Note:**

> The title once again comes from 'Dancing in the Devil's Shoes' by Guillemots.
> 
> I have [tumblr.](http://lloydsglasses.tumblr.com) Come say hi! :)


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